Chapter 155
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Chapter 155: What to Say
The wallet was stolen.
Lin Lin hadn’t felt this kind of unfairness in a while. Once she confirmed that she had indeed encountered a thief, her normally smooth hair almost immediately became frizzy.
Once thrown out by the God of Light, Lin Lin had the chance to become the Holy Maiden. Now, working in the Demon King Castle, she showed a frightening expression fit for the creatures of the castle.
At that moment, the magic wand in Lin Lin’s hand was not a magic wand, but a staff held by a Shaolin monk.
Fortunately, the young man who had disappeared had a distinctive upside-down cross mark on his face.
Lin Lin turned back to the Adventurer’s Guild and asked the still-snoozing old man about this person.
Uncle Luigi, who thought he finally sent Lin Lin away, was leaning on the table. When he saw Lin Lin again, he rubbed his eyes, as if he thought he was still dreaming, "Why are you back again?"
Lin Lin told Uncle Luigi about the bad luck she had just encountered at the guild entrance.
When Lin Lin mentioned the "upside-down cross," Uncle Luigi clearly pictured someone in his mind, but still sincerely suggested to Lin Lin, "If you just lost a little money, you might as well come here to take a job and earn it back. If you go after him, you won’t get your money back and you’ll get yourself into trouble."
Lin Lin replied firmly, "He caused trouble for me, which is what makes it a problem."
She was small in size, but her temper was fierce; Luigi could almost see the dark energy swirling behind Lin Lin.
Uncle Luigi tugged at the corner of his mouth, realizing that Lin Lin was completely overwhelmed by anger. "Calm down, Miss Mage. Why don’t you go back and rest? If you still want to know about that person tomorrow, come find me, okay? I won’t run away."
Lin Lin looked at the uncle with a hint of sadness, feeling that he saw her as someone who only acted on rash feelings.
Alright, Lin Lin admitted that she was feeling a bit angry right now.
With Uncle Luigi’s clearly comforting words for the child, Lin Lin left the adventurer’s mansion looking gloomy.
Lin Lin returned to her hotel and first told the owner that her money was stolen. Fortunately, she had paid for two nights in advance.
"Take it easy, girl," perhaps because Lin Lin was a bit smaller and didn’t look very strong, people two hundred years ago who seemed like warriors were willing to treat her as someone who needed more gentle handling.
The owner comforted Lin Lin, saying, "You can pay the rent a few days later. Uncle Luigi is just looking out for your safety. Who knows how many fights happen around the Adventurer’s Guild every day? You look too fragile."
"Do you know that guy with the upside-down cross on his face?" Lin Lin noticed that the owner was also deliberately ignoring the person who stole her wallet.
The owner’s smile froze on her face, and the human woman touched her short hair. "How should I put it… I’m not really in favor of you looking for that guy."
Lin Lin blinked, surprised to find that the boss’s thoughts matched those of the Adventurer’s Guild uncle.
"After all," the innkeeper said with a bright smile, "bad people should stay stuck in the ground forever; having them stick to your hand is also a big problem."
Lin Lin realized that the other person had spoken some very important words.
After that great battle, the God of Light became the faith of most people; those who did not believe in the God of Light still viewed the "kindness" he promoted as a positive image.
It allowed everyone to openly express such words.
Lin Lin thought it looked like a very bad person.
–
Night, narrow crowded alleys, and the damp smell of alcohol.
In a town filled with adventurers and mercenaries, they believed even more strongly in the power of fists, giving rise to a chaotic and bloody "order."
During the day, it seems that the sunlight still covers the town with a veil, but at night, even the more peaceful neighborhoods can hear the drunken mercenaries singing off-key and hoarsely.
A young man squeezed through an alley and entered a low-roofed bar.
This bar, owned by a mixed-blood dwarf, had the dwarf’s passion for alcohol and unique taste, along with a human spirit for business; today, the Green Tail Tavern was still doing well.
The wooden door creaked, and no one cared who entered this place filled with the scent of wheat and roasted meat, for the people here might die tomorrow fighting monsters, and the day after, new faces would come here hoping for luck, dreaming of striking it rich.
The young man was tall and moved lightly to a table and chairs against the wall, sitting down slowly.
He was a regular here.
Regulars know each other; a scruffy gray wolf with greasy fur lifted his bright green eyes. His keen sense of smell detected the scent of blood in the air, "Looks like you’re not so lucky today, bad boy."
The nickname "bad boy" didn’t sound as friendly as it seemed, especially when a young man pointed out from behind with "Worgen blood" was called that by a Worgen.
From under his hood, the young man’s handsome face raised, his dark gray eyelashes similar to the Worgen’s fur pointed up. He slumped casually in the chair, one hand resting on the back, his lips thin and pale, but his words were sharper, "Oh? Do you still have the ability to have children as a Worgen? Instead of running around being a dad, you might want to shave the fur off your face; maybe some poor woman won’t mind you."
The Worgen, who was originally smiling widely, now looked fierce. A deep scar went through his left eye, and his remaining right eye stared at the young man.
The faint smell of blood still clung to the young man, but he casually ordered the cheapest bottle of new wine and began to play with the dagger in his hand in a relaxed manner.
The dagger’s blade was sharp, and it still glinted coldly in the dim light.
The young man cleaned the dagger slowly and carefully, but the Worgen knew that if he took another step forward, that dagger might very well stab into his remaining eye, and who knew if it would be coated in poison.
The Worgen snorted coldly, turned around, and stopped looking at the young man.
The young man took off his hat, letting his dark gray hair fall over his shoulders. His pale skin and handsome face gave him a great disguise. When he looked quietly at someone, most people gave a positive impression.
Calm, reserved, and even mysterious and attractive.
Unfortunately, he was a complete fool. In a time of war and turmoil, Lorken didn’t recognize many letters and needed someone else to read the tasks he got from the Adventurer’s Guild.
No one even knew who his parents were; they only feared his wild dog-like healing ability and sharp fangs, believing he must be a descendant of some Worgen.
Even though most people know that Worgen have very low fertility.
But saying this makes them happy; after all, the skinny-looking Lorken shouldn’t have beaten those muscular men.
His drink hadn’t arrived yet, and Lorken pulled at his collar in annoyance. The injuries from fighting the monsters hurt him, and the creature that bit his left leg was poisonous, making it hard for him to move. He didn’t feel good being so sluggish.
Lorken took out a white coin purse from his pocket, weighed it in his hand, and found there wasn’t much money—enough to buy at most two healing potions.
The coin purse was delicate and beautiful, with golden threads forming intricate floral patterns; it clearly belonged to a lady.
Lorken looked up at the light bulb hanging overhead and remembered the woman he saw in the morning.
At that time, Lorken could tell right away that she didn’t have much money.
But, how should he put it, he had a craving to steal.
Moreover, the woman looked weak and smelled nice, so if not her, who else would he steal from?
In this place, even holding back one’s breath is impossible; the weak naturally become the targets of bullying, and Lorken is simply following the rule of survival of the fittest.
The bar was so busy that Lorken’s drink had not yet arrived.
The young man frowned, his beautiful face showing signs of impatience. The pain from his wound made him clutch his forehead as he debated between alcohol and healing medicine.
Lorken stepped out of the tavern, the earthy smell was thick and damp, and he could even catch a hint of a calming fragrance.
The youth suddenly stepped back; even though his mind had not yet registered it, his animal-like instinct had already sensed something was wrong.
A fragrance? Why is there a fragrance?
Even the food here is hot and rough.
This godforsaken muddy place shouldn’t have such a gentle and delicate scent.
A flash of white light darted past the young man from behind.
"Mental Shock!"
Lorken heard this spell before he fainted.
